


Mend

by antivanelf (macabreromansu)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, Kandersgiving 2020, M/M, Unbeta'd, justice-free anders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabreromansu/pseuds/antivanelf
Summary: It doesn't always have to end in death
Relationships: Anders/Karl Thekla
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3
Collections: Kandersgiving





	Mend

**Author's Note:**

> I just started this and kept going, just because I wanted to write something for Kandersgiving 2020 even if this is the only thing. 
> 
> It has a happy ending, because I have only written whump for them so far and they deserve nice things. This is also a Justice-free Anders zone.

A breath caught in his throat, released as a sob. Karl slumped against him, sighing his last, but Anders couldn’t pull away. He buried his face into his lover’s neck, heaving wails threatening to burst free.

The clanking of Templar armour, getting nearer, faded to nothing. Hawke’s urgent hand gripped the back of his robe, pulling in vain. Anders was numb, was nothing but a hand curled around the hilt of a dagger in his love’s back.

Withdrawing the dagger, he kept Karl somewhat upright between his own body and the pillar with some difficulty. But he did it. He raised the dripping blade in front of his eyes, staring transfixed at the red lifeblood as Hawke shouted in his ear. The dagger, plunging towards his own breast by his own hand was the last thing he saw before there was a sharp pain on the back of his head and everything abruptly went black.

*

He awoke to red again. He stared at it it for who knows how long before he realised he was even awake, lying on his back - somehow not dead - and in… Hawke’s bedroom? Staring up at the canopy of his bed apparently.

‘I see you’re awake.’ A voice laced with annoyance and disgust proclaimed right next to his ear and he jumped half out of his skin and off the bed before he realised it was just the man himself, sitting on the side of the bed with his arms crossed. He looked… displeased was an understatement.

‘I…’ Anders began, but he didn’t have any idea what he wanted to say and subsided, looking down at the pattern on the quilt instead.

‘I _cannot_ believe you were even considering…! Do you _know_ how close we cut it?’

Yep, Hawke was definitely pissed. Anders worried his bottom lip with his teeth. The moment had seemed so surreal to him as he remembered, the ache in his heart made him want to bury his head in the covers, to flinch away from Hawke’s angry gaze and curl in on himself. He had wanted to die there with Karl, the pull so strong that it was easier to just… not resist. 

He wasn’t sure how he felt now that Karl was gone for good, not even the fading warmth of his body left to hold onto. He clenched his hands in the covers.

Hawke cleared his throat. ‘Oh, and by the way, I don’t know what you were thinking, yanking the knife out like that, but we managed to stabilise him and Isabela knew this Seer that knew a thing or two about Tranquility-’

Anders whipped his head up and stared blankly at him. What… was he saying?

‘-and that cost a pretty penny, don’t think Varric won’t remind of you that next Wicked Grace night when you’re playing him for coppers, let alone the fucking riots _that’ll_ cause if it’s gets out that it can be undone. But we got him in the spare ro- _ack_!’

Anders had lunged forward and grabbed him by that stupid neckerchief, nose-to-nose as he all but snarled, ‘ _Where!?’_

Smug satisfaction swiftly followed Hawke’s initial surprise at being grabbed, and made itself at home on that stupid, fantastic face. 

‘He’s in the spare room. And I have it on good authority that he’s awake. You’re welcome!’

The last was shouted after Anders’ running figure, practically a blur as he ran out to the landing, straight for Hawke’s guest room, flinging open the door and completely forgetting himself in his urgency. The heavy oak bounced on its hinges but Anders flung out an arm to still it absently, all of his attention focused on the figure sitting upright on the bed near the window. His sudden appearance had caused Karl to drop the book he was reading, but when he saw who it was, the other’s face, with its blessedly, _beautifully_ blank forehead, lit up.

‘Hello, love.’


End file.
